Tides
by WriteMessyShit
Summary: Sometimes things work; sometimes they don't... After a failed fling, Grimmjow and Tamaki awkwardly attempt to continue their lives as "friends." But such a frayed ending doesn't sit well. What do you do when things don't work out? [[Post Quincy Blood War Fic]]


She glanced over at him. It was strange to stare at someone, especially when they were eating. But she knew he wasn't paying attention.

Grimmjow had just finished griping. It was his daily ritual; he would snap at someone for being too "fill in the blank" and he'd reach his quota. Then, he'd shrink away into the background again until the need arose again. He always had to bark at someone about something, and it didn't matter what it was. Tamaki found it both annoying and amusing; annoying because he would even rail on her sometimes, and amusing because she knew why he did it.

But, once again, he had just finished informing Ichigo of his continual passivity, and why that was problematic. Grimmjow really was a preacher; he was the fiery kind that howled at the pulpit, raging, hoping people would hear him. That was all it was: a desire to be heard.

But Ichigo wasn't a responsive listener, at least not today. There were many more interesting things to be doing on the beach than listen to Grimmjow berate you for not bringing beer.

And so, in a somewhat defeated slump, Grimmjow retired to frustratedly munching on the watermelon slices Orihime had passed around earlier. Tamaki smiled at the unaware Arrancar. He probably would have enjoyed himself more if the Gotei 13's beach trip had been anything like the last one, especially with all the chaos caused by the watermelon monsters. Grimmjow thrived in chaos.

Rolling her eyes at the thought, Tamaki called to him across the sand.

"What's the matter?"

The Arrancar's head snapped up sharply. As much as he probably complained to her, Grimmjow never ceased to successfully look at Tamaki without pause.

Today was an example of that. He was in the middle of chewing, and when he found her face, everything on him slowed, and his gaze fell without response. It was almost shocking for him not to bite back.

Tamaki tried to lighten the mood. "I'm sure there's a bar somewhere nearby if you really wanted to go get a drink."

That didn't seem to work either. It was as if he didn't care about the alcohol anymore. It was silly. Tamaki stood up and walked up to his little setup, his towel laid out beneath an umbrella, and she knelt. He wouldn't look at her.

"Is your man-crush not paying attention to you?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't have a man-crush."

"Really."

He glared at her. She only smiled in return.

"He's straight as a fuckin' board."

"And you?"

He gave her an almost pleading look.

" _Why?"_

"I know I annoy you."

"You tried to set me up with a straight dude. Yeah, you annoy me. What do you want?"

"You just seem irritable today."

"Huh. Fancy that."

She pointed at the watermelon. He handed her a piece. They both nibbled and watched the rest of the beachgoers wind down with the sunset. She glanced over at him. He noticed her watching this time.

"Hm."

"Grimmjow…"

"What?"

"You really shouldn't."

"Shouldn't what?"

"Be so melodramatic."

He spat out a seed, as if to scoff. "You're saying I'm a wuss?"

"I'm saying it doesn't matter if you are."

He went quiet.

"You're so worried about that," she murmured, looking away.

"Well, it does matter."

"Well, you're not a wuss, so quit being paranoid about it." She was leaned away from him now, nearly facing away from him. "What's so bad about being a wuss anyway? Being soft isn't something you should be ashamed of. But you go to such great lengths to preserve this one way people see you, and then you just look like someone who's unapproachable."

"I want people to take me seriously, Tam." His voice was surprisingly calm.

"Well, I take you seriously. Is that not good enough?"

"Hey."

She looked over at him again. His brows were furrowed. "How about you quit acting like I don't care about you?"

She sputtered. "I'm acting like that? I'm being a good friend and letting you do what you want."

"You're egging me onto other guys. That's not what I want."

"Then I'm sorry."

"Well, quit pushing me away."

"I'm not."

It went quiet. The waves seemed deafening, their crashing attempts to leap ashore so closeby. She didn't think he would bring this up. She thought they were past this.

"We can make this work out," he said. It sounded like something she'd heard before.

"How do you know?"

"You don't think so?"

She looked up at him. "I don't want to hurt myself again." She didn't want to bother. The last time they got together, he might as well have been unconscious. He was drunk as a sailor.

"Then stop hiding from me."

"I'm not hiding from you."

"Sure, you're not. I'm not looking for other people, Tam. I'm looking for you."

"I thought we weren't doing this."

He seemed like a shifty person at the time. Sometimes he still did now. He used to have bad habits, and he still sort of did. Their friendship made things a little better. Maybe he felt stable with her around. But she always tried to encourage him to find other people.

He huffed, frustratedly. "Seriously?"

"I'm your friend, Grimmjow."

"I don't _want_ that to be true. You can't be serious."

"What's so wrong with that? Tell me!"

He just stared at her.

"If you don't want to be with me, at least tell me why."

And, for the first time, she didn't know what to say.

"Is it because I'm annoying? That maybe I'm an ass? I drink? I kiss around sometimes? Tell me what it is."

She squinted at him. "Why, so you can change it?"

"Yes."

She didn't expect him to say that.

"I liked kissing you, Tam."

It had been a long time since they kissed. The last time, he had tasted like beer. It made her feel guilty. It had been loud, she'd pulled him out, only a bit tipsy herself, and they'd gone an made out on her couch. She hadn't liked kissing him then, not because she didn't like him, but because she felt so insecure, so unsafe. She was afraid he wouldn't even remember. He almost didn't.

"How can you say that?" she whispered. "I had to tell you what happened that night."

"No, you didn't. I remembered that. I wouldn't forget that."

She gave him a look, a hurt one. He glanced away.

"I'm just saying I wouldn't mind trying again…"

She didn't know what to say. He tried to smile.

"I'm a hundred percent less intoxicated this time."

"Do you love me?"

His eyes widened. He looked almost pained that she'd asked.

"Come see."

The first time had been terrible. In the moment, it felt like something out of a movie, but it still didn't feel authentic. It felt wrong. It tasted wrong. He wasn't himself and she felt out of control. But this time, he was warm, sticky and sweet with watermelon residue; his hand rolled up the back of her arm, beckoning her to cuddle closer, to kiss deeper, to let go. He was better this time, but that wasn't enough.

"Do you love me?" she asked into his lips. His breath brushed softly against her skin.

"I want to."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"That doesn't mean I want to sleep around, Tam. That means I want to try. I've got a big gaping hole in my gut that means I can't emotion right; you know that."

"Sure."

After that first night, they had stayed together for a bit. But it was awkward. He hadn't intended to be so intimate with her; he hadn't been in his right mind. And as soon as his eyes started wandering, she pulled back. He stayed around, and she supported him, but it seemed like a dead end.

"You think I'm lying?" he asked.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to feel comfortable with that answer."

He looked at her for a long time. "It means I really do love you."

"Then say that if that's what you mean."

"It's not that easy, Tam…"

He didn't get far before she started to cry, her frustration winning out. Awkwardly, he pulled her into his arms, and she rested in his embrace, not saying a word, only sobbing. He rubbed the back of her neck.

"You can say I'm a jerk now," he mumbled. She balled her fist against his chest.

"I just wish you wouldn't hide from _me_ and then lecture _me_ about being vulnerable."

"Alright, so we both have a problem." His lips brushed her forehead. She turned up her head and kissed him, deeply straight away. It almost seemed to overwhelm him. The rhythm of her lips, the heavy lilt of her tongue, it was as though he was trying to keep up, all until it overtook him, and he let a groan resonate through her mouth, a sound that sent sparks to her loins.

She parted from him, his eyes dazed and dejected. He was hurt.

"Why did you never show me _that?"_ he whispered.

"Because I was afraid I'd never get it back."

That yielded another kiss, and another, until, red-faced, she pulled back to breathe, realizing what all of this could mean.

"Do you want to have sex?" she asked.

Now, they hadn't had sex that first night. That was one thing she chose not to do. It didn't matter that much anyway, since he had passed out long before that became a viable option. But that still didn't seem to justify his reaction.

"What?"

At first, she tried to lighten the mood.

"Well, don't make me feel weird," she said, trying to laugh. "It's just a question. We don't have to." But he didn't seem to hear.

"Here?"

"Why not?"

He glanced away. "There are people around."

"We can go somewhere else."

He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. But, she had a hunch. She hesitated.

"Do you not want to?"

"I _do_ want to."

"But… what?"

"Tam…"

"We can wait; it's okay. We're not gonna die. Or at least I won't."

"Tam."

"What?"

It was like he couldn't quite speak. With childlike indignance, his mouth seemed to be clamped shut.

"I don't know."

She was starting to get concerned now. "What's wrong?"

"Don't you think maybe we're rushing back into things?" But that didn't feel like the real problem.

"Grimmjow."

"What?"

"Do you not want to have sex? It's okay if you don't."

"Tam…"

"Please just tell me. Didn't you just say not to push you away? Don't push me away either."

He growled. Her voice went softer.

"I'm just worried."

He hesitated for a long time, his facial features softening into something that almost looked like pain.

"Can we go somewhere else?"

"Of course we can."

She stood, and he followed, and they walked down the stretch of ocean shore. Darkness was starting to fall, but the sand was still warm. Now, the sounds from the party were far off, if nonexistent.

She stopped, and he stopped next to her. She unwrapped the towel from around her hips.

"You want to sit down?"

He nodded. She laid out the towel on the sand, and they sat, staring out into the water. She leaned against him, waiting.

"You know I'm infertile, right?"

"Yeah. It's an Arrancar thing."

"Well, that's not the only thing."

She looked up at him. The pained expression was still there in the tense of his neck muscles.

"Promise me you won't be a turd about this," he said.

"Good God, Grimmjow, what kind of jerk do you think I am?"

"I don't know." He turned and kissed her. Deeply. Softly. Amazingly. Even when he pulled away, her arm was around his neck, trying to pull him back in. But he straightened up again, against her hopes, and faced forward, tensely. She slowly leaned back into his shoulder, and an unsteady arm wrapped around her middle, but it didn't comfort her much.

"You promise?" he murmured.

"Grimmy, you're making me nervous."

"Please just say it."

"Yes, I promise I won't be an asshole. Now, please tell me what's wrong."

He took in a deep breath, like the sound of the rushing, tumbling waters before them. It seemed like hours passed between his last words and now.

"I think I'm impotent."

Silence.

"You do?" Instinctively, she looked down at his crotch.

"It just doesn't really work. I don't know."

She didn't really know what to say. "What do you mean, 'it doesn't work'? Like, how?"

"It doesn't get hard."

"At all?"

"No."

She went quiet. He wouldn't look at her, his brow curled into something of complete torture.

"It's been doing it for a while now. I didn't do anything differently. I just thought I was maturing or something. Boners get annoying sometimes." He hesitated, his breath shaking. "But it's not supposed to do this."

"Can you still get turned on?"

"Yeah."

"Is it the same?"

"Does it feel the same? No. I can't get hard." His fists started to tighten. "It's like nothing happens. I'm horny up here, and nothing happens down there."

She looked up at him. His eyes were focused off somewhere else. She leaned into his chest. He sighed.

"That doesn't mean we can't still mess around," she whispered.

"Don't you get it?" he said suddenly. She sat up, his wide eyes meeting hers. "I'm… I'm nothing now! If I was anything before, I'm not anymore. I can't do what I'm supposed to do, what I _want_ to do!"

She stammered. "You're not defective or anything."

He only stared at her.

" _I'm_ not defective?"

She didn't know what to say.

"No, Tam. You can't tell me there's nothing wrong with this. There's _everything_ wrong with being fucking soft in an instance like this!"

"It's not incurable, Grimmjow!"

" _Well, it is right now!"_ His eyes looked so hurt, like he could cry. His voice fell soft. "It _mattered_ right now."

She gazed at this man, this torn up person. She leaned into him and pulled herself close to his chest, to his heart.

She murmured.

"Don't you dare think I'll walk away from you because of something like this. I love you _way_ more than that."

He pried her away, and she kissed him before he could protest. He pulled back.

"Tam, that doesn't fix it."

"You don't have to fix it right now."

"Well, how are we going to—"

"You can have sex without a penis, you know."

"I know, but—"

"No, I don't think you do know." She pushed him slowly down onto the towel. "There are lots of things you can do. None of them require a penis, and all of them are legitimate."

He just stared up at her, one eyebrow raised, an unsure expression on his face.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

He sat there for a moment, and then crossed his eyes at her. Her mouth fell wide open.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez!"

He snorted. "Should I trust you?"

Now, she had to be offended, but only for the fun of it. "I can't believe you'd say that about me."

He smiled up at her, warmly. She straddled his chest, and taking his hand, she slowly placed it over her ribs, on her bare skin. His touch was electrifying and slow at the same time. His hand pushed up under her breast, cupping it, his thumb rubbing gingerly over her nipple. His other hand had found its way to her waist, and was working its way up.

"Is this good?" she asked.

His eyebrows rose at her. He half grinned.

"It _is_ pretty good." His hands were gentle on her breasts, barely rubbing, barely squeezing, just feeling, petting, touching. "The only thing is, I have no idea how to take this top off."

She scoffed, giggling, and as she reached behind her neck, the straps loosened and slipped gracefully down her front. Now, his hands ran over bare breasts, and she rocked on his chest, his fingers running everywhere new they hadn't run before. He pulled her down, and her chest collided with his. She kissed his lips, and then went further down his neck. Beneath her, he began to tense and writhe and shiver with pleasure. She resurfaced.

"How do you feel?"

The corner of his mouth twitched into a grin. "With my damn everything, that's how." He was so playful now. "It feels great."

"Should I try anything down there?"

Suddenly, his smile seemed to fade. She followed up.

"If you don't like it, we can do something else. Easy as that. I won't be disappointed."

" _I_ might be."

She looked at him sadly.

"Can I see you?"

"Me?"

"Your penis."

"Uh, flaccid?"

"Sure."

He shrugged. "I guess so."

His swim trunks slid down. She gave him a look.

"You're not _that_ flaccid."

"Alright, well I can't do much more than that."

She smiled. "Would you let me try?"

"Try what?"

"Oral, manual."

"Don't be upset if it doesn't do anything. But you can try."

"You'll feel it still, won't you?"

"Yeah, sure, babe."

"Then that's why I'll do it."

She leaned down over his stomach and left a trail of kisses, from his ribs down to his loins, and it still made his toes curl. She could see. Her lips brushed against the head of his penis, and it was soft. But it was still worth kissing. Up the squishy shaft, to the corners where his thighs met his crotch. Back down again, and her mouth slowly surrounded his shallow girth, and she worked for a little bit. Then, she came back up and pressed her chest against his.

"And?"

He smiled, a little sadly. "It was alright." What else was there to expect? "I liked you up here better." His arms wrapped around her. "And maybe if I get this figured out, you can go down on me again later and see if it feels any better."

She smiled. "Well, I'm not done with you up here either."

He chuckled.

"Don't think I've even _begun_ with your little ass."


End file.
